


Caring is not an Advantage

by SilverGuardian (TheGuardian219)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brother Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Friendship, Holmes Brothers, Hurt/Comfort, Mycroft Feels, Mycroft's Meddling, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sibling Love, blame, head canons, sherlock scarf, unexpected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 19:29:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3861988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGuardian219/pseuds/SilverGuardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hears the familiar sound of expensive shoes and the sharp tip of an umbrella hitting the concrete approaching.</p><p>"What are you doing here?"</p><p>"This is a personal matter, as you would imagine."</p><p>"I don't need your help."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caring is not an Advantage

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the mistakes, I'm typing on my phnoe and I'm almost asleep. Haha anyway, hope you enjoy!

**"I'm surprised you humored me with this one."**

**"I'm surprised there were no unmarked vehicles that escorted me here."**

**Fair enough.**

**"Mycroft, Sherlock just got a lead on the case. There's an assassin-"**

**"Yes, I believe I've come across him."**

**"You know?"**

**John was pissed. Here he was spurting precious information he got while running up a ten storey building.**

**Their meeting was discreet. They had a shared concern towards the consulting detective. They've had two other meetings like this earlier the month.**

**They were talking and they were about to finish when they both tensed up. Years of training and experience told them there was something amiss.**

**A shot was heard and one of them was down to the ground while the other tried to stem the bleeding. Through all the fuss, John managed to shoot their attacker while he tried to stop the bleeding.**

**"Why did you do that?" the man asked the other as he lowered him gently down the cold floor.**

**"He needs you more." the other said while coughing up some blood.**

**"Stay with me. Come on. Stop that bullshit."**

**"Tell him, I'm sorry. For eveything."**

**"Stop. You can tell him yourself. Listen to me, don't close your eyes."**

**"I cant." he was slipping. "I'm sorry for almost getting you killed."**

**"Listen,you are going to be fine- Sherlock still needs you and-"**

**"Be strong for him for me."**

* * *

 

This was personal. Sherlock Holmes stood alone in an abandoned warehouse, at his feet was a body. 

If only  _he_ didn't call him. _He_ was the reason this man was dead. The person who understood Sherlock like no other.

He shook his head. Pointing fingers won't catch the killer. Caring is not an advantage.

He hears the familiar sound of expensive shoes and the sharp tip of an umbrella hitting the concrete approaching.

"What are you doing here?"

"This is a personal matter, as you would imagine."

"I don't need your help."

There was the unmistakeable tinge of bitterness in his voice and his brother sighed.

"Bitterness is hardly-"

"Go away!"

He yelled. Mycroft just raised an eyebrow. It was a good thing Lestrade and his men gave Sherlock some time alone with  _him_.

"I do realize that the man holds a rather dear place in your heart but I fail to realize why you are so upset."

Sherlock whipped to face him.

"Why am I upset?" he scoffed. "Do you realize if you didn't. If you just stayed away then.." he couldn't finish a sentence. His mind wasn't working properly.

"Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock."

Without his consent, hia mind drifted off to earlier this morning.

* * *

_"Sherlock, we're out of milk. I'm just going to go out for awhile."_

_The detective just gave a brief hum. They were back to their odd ritual. Mary was in the clinic having a check up but John didn't need to know about that. Mary and Sherlock seemed to get along well, especially with taking care of John._

_He'd probably spout out some nonesense if Mary said she will have a check up with another doctor. And if he did come he would juat complain and try to out wit the poor doctor. He was worse than Sherlock when it came to his family._

_He was balancing staying at the flat and staying with Mary. Miraculously, nothing seemed wrong as of yet. The whole Magnussen fiasco had been sorted and as of now, their main concern is the reappearance of 'Moriarty'._

_Sherlock was now staring at the wall where he posted several pictured of people, places and documents._

_It was simply not possible. He saw Moriarty die. But now, he has been presented with a new puzzle, to make things more interesting, he had a vow to maintain._

_He then heard the tell tale signs of his brother's arrival._

_"Have you found anything yet?"_

_The formality was dropped and he glanced at his brother._

_"No good morning?"_

_"Sherlock."_

_There was an edge to his tone. It was puzzling but he decided to ignore it_

_"Like there is anything to find?"_

_"Sherlock."_

_It was sharper now. Interesting._

_"Nothing as of yet. What do you want? You won't come here just to ask that."_

_His brother sat down._

_"No, I wouldn't. There was an issue in the office. I swear the idiots are multiplying."_

_Sherlock smirked. He would never admit it out loud but he did like the moments when they could drop their guard and just be brothers._

* * *

 

"How did the victim die?" 

Distance. He must maintain distance. His brother is providing it.

"Gunshot would to the chest. Suspected punctred lung. He likely bled out-" he kept talking but he didn't register what he was saying.

"How did he obtain the wound?"

"He was shot." Sherlock said in a high mocking tone As he rolled his eyes.

"Clearly. Where was the shooter?"

Sherlock walked, he paced around while standing a few meters away from Mycroft. He pointed his hand, positioned like a gun, and pointed it at the place Mycroft stood , right next to the body.

"Bang"

* * *

_"Of course you're my bestfriend"_

_Sherlock stared at John. He did the 'blinky-thing' as John called it._

_It was almost comical if it wasn't so sad. With John's first meeting with Mycroft he learned that apparently Mycroft was the closest thing Sherlock has to a friend._

_He continued to stare at John as he drank the coffee with the eyeball bobbing up and down. It was surprisingly good._

* * *

 

"I should have known this would happen." 

Sherlock said as he lowered his hand.

"How exactly would you know?"

"I should have known that there were some rat still operating on his network."

Sherlock resumed his post beside the body. Looking it over, trying to find clues.

"Was he alone?"

"No. He invited a friend over. He wanted to chat. He- oh." what started as an annoyed tone developed into surprise.

Mycroft stared at him.

"He figured it out. The possible last member of the network was sent to kill someone close to me."

"Not you?" Mycroft inquired. It was always better to give Sherlock the spotlight and distract him

"No. If he was sent to kill me he wouldn't bother killing- killing the victim." 

His stumble was ignored.

"This is all his fault." Sherlock said in a petulant voice. He almost can't believe he said that

"You can't blame John."

"Then it's your fault then."

That was his default setting. Whenever things go wrong he would blame Mycroft.

"Maybe it is. You tell me."

* * *

_There was a sudden yelp in the kitchen._

_"A fucking leg Sherlock!"_

_"Just tea for me please."_

_He mumbled while tapping on his laptop._

_"What do you need a bloody leg for? Hell, why did you put it in the fridge for God'sake?"_

_"where else would I put it? It was that or put the whole body in the tub and fill it with ice "_

_"The whole-"_

* * *

 

"Why wasn't his companion injured?"

Mycroft's question jolted him out of his reverie.

"The killer only had time for one shot. After that John managed to shoot him whilst trying to stem the bleeding. The killer is now on the lose with a leg wound."

His slip of the tongue nearly shook him to the core. Caring is not an advantage.

"he wasn't the target at all."

"No. His companion was. The bloody idiot took the hit." he spat out.

"I guess that solves your mystery."

"How could you be so cold about this.?" Sherlock whispered.

His brother sighed.

"I wasn't nicknamed 'the iceman' for nothing."

"But this is personal."

,"Anything concerning you is a personal matter to me." he paused. "Would it help if I showed sentiment? There won't be any difference.That man is dead."

* * *

" _Mycroft!"_

_There was a sudden opening of his door, Mycroft nearly jumped from his bed._

_"Sherlock? What are you doing up this late?"_

_"I had a nightmare."_

_It was typical for the brothers to share their beds. Often times Mycroft would share his whenever Sherlock can't sleep. Which was very very often._

_Sherlock ran to Mycroft's arms with speed that would make a cheetah jealous. Well, according to him anyway._

_He didn't talk about his nightmares. Mycroft didn't push. He opened a drawer beside him and withdrew a book. Treasure Island. His brother's favorite._

_"Do you want me to read this to you?" he asked amd sherlock nodded._

_Halfway through the book Sherlock tugged at his sleeve._

_"I'm sorry I threw food at you during dinner."_

_Sherlock said while keeping his head down._

_"Just don't do it again." Mycroft smiled._

_"But it was fun." Sherlock grinned at him._

_Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "You like throwing food to the person currently reading to you? "_

_Sherlock saw the hint._

_"No. But it was fun seeing Aunt Leslie's reaction. Cousin Thomas enjoyed it too."_

_Mycroft shook his head._

_"Whatever am I going to do with you?"_

* * *

 

He stared at his brother with barely contained tears.

"He meant a lot to me." He whispered to his big brother.

"oh? I would never have guessed." it was said in that monotone voice which annoyed Sherlock.

" Shut up."

"I assure you that it went both ways."

Sherlock gazed at him with the stormy blue eyes that could pierce him with one look.

"Really?"

"It was obvious wasn't it? The concern, the worry." His brother said in the light hearted tone.

"But-"

"Sherlock, both of us care a lot about you. I care. Never doubt that, brother dear. Despite everything, you will always be my brother and I will always care."

"Caring is not an advantage" Sherlock muttered under his breath.

Mycroft smiled.

"Sherlock!" his name was called.

* * *

_''Sherlock!"_

_His brother was always there. When he skinned his knee as a child. When the bullies attacked him. He tried to remain in contact when he was in university but their bond simply couldn't take the distance._

_When he over dosed, his brother was beside him, not sleeping until he was conscious again._

_Nevertheless, the constant need to spy on his brother annoyed Sherlock and the once idolised elder brother became the annoying, lazy politician that wanted to run his life._

_Their feud was sorely bred from Sherlock's druggie days but as time went on, their hostility towards the other lessed somewhat._

_Especially with the arrival of one John Watson._

* * *

"Sherlock! Are you okay mate?" John asked.

Sherlock shook his head and looked around.

"Yes. Fine."

"I'm sorry. It was all my fault." Sherlock didn't say anything. John continued.

"The assassin was caught by Lestrade And hia team awhile ago." he paused. " I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"What for? Sherlock, your brother is dead!" Sherlcok winced. " He is dead because of me! The idiot took the bullet that was meant for me. He fuckin said that you needed me more, the bastard." John was nearly hysterical.

"It's okay." he said. He didn't know what else to say.

"No it's not! Mycroft, the british government, is dead because of me. I arranged the meeting. Because he trusted me enougj to come alone he is dead!"

"John, look at me. It wasn't your fault." Sherlock said in a calm voice.

"It wasn't anyone's fault."

* * *

It was a simple funeral. Many politicians came with several foreign dignitaries. It was short and boring.

Sherlock stayed after the service and stared at his brother's tombstone. It was very much like the one on his supposed grave. Just a name and no dates. 

"Normal people say that writing a letter to a lo- relative that suddenly died helped with coping. I can't understand it though. What if someone reads it?" he paused.

"Back then, at the warehouse." he sighed. " My mind was jumbled. It wouldn't work properly and I imagined you were there. Talking to me." he was at aloss for words.

"john said that while you were dying, you said that the reason for you taking the bullet was that I needed him more. I still need you Mye." he said in a child like tone. His old nickname for Mycroft slipping.

"I need you both. I know I rarely show it but you do mean a lot to me. You helped me get clean. You didn't give up on me. And I never even said thank you." he whispered.

"Thank you. For always looking out for me. For saving John." he choked "For everything. I'm sorry for all the times I made your life hell. " he paused "You had it coming though, you were the most annoying brother anyone could have." his lips pulled up.

"You already know what else I will say. There really is no point in stating the obvious."

He brushed the name on the tombstone carefully. "Goodbye Brother-mine"

He said as he turned away and tightened his scarf. Caring is not an advantage indeed. Sherlock smiled wryly

* * *

_"Mycroft I don't want you to go."_

_Sherlock said with tears streaming down his eyes as he grabbed his brother's shirt._

_"Sherlock, I will be back in christmas. I'm just a phone call away."_

_"But who will read me stories? And chase the bullies away? And-"_

_"Your a big boy now. You'll figurw it out. If you ever need me, just ring for me."_

_Before he left he kneeled down one last time to his brother._

_"Here." it was a handsome blue scarf._

_"I know how cold you get. Whenever it's cold or if you're lonely, just remember that I will always be there for you. I will always look after you."_

_Sherlock stered wide-eyed at the present._

_"I will never let go of it." he said._

_"See? I'll always be with you as long as you have that scarf." he ruffled his brother's hair before giving him the last hug they will ever share._

_"Goodbye brother-mine."_

**Author's Note:**

> That was rather difficult to write.Sherlock was confused and angry and basically a whirl-wind of emotion in the warehouse I was not sure how to write him. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the story!! I would like to hear what you thought of it


End file.
